


Count Each Suture As A Badge Of Honor

by Readbyanalise010, reena_jenkins



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Audio Format: Streaming, Character Study, Community: pod-together, Gen, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Podfic, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readbyanalise010/pseuds/Readbyanalise010, https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The best way to sell a cover is to believe it yourself.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count Each Suture As A Badge Of Honor

 

[**mp3**](http://analise010.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/%5BGraceland%5D%20Count%20Each%20Suture%20As%20A%20B.mp3) | [**m4b**](http://analise010.parakaproductions.com/Podfic/%5BGraceland%5D%20Count%20Each%20Suture%20As%20A%20Badge%20Of%20Honor.m4b)

00:04:02

* * *

 

The best way to sell a cover is to believe it yourself.

Take who you are off-hours and stick her in a little box in the back of your head. Tape it up and pile it under all the old blankets and broken Christmas decorations in the back of the attic, and forget about that girl. Catherine DeMarco, who? You're someone else, now.

Maybe you're someone with a single mother or a deadbeat father and a history of misdemeanors. Maybe you've got some seriously sticky fingers, and a juvie record to match. Maybe you're a high school drop-out with a dead someone special. Create yourself from the ground up, from bits and scraps and jagged edges. You've got new and interesting scars, that you've had your whole life; years of addiction and the habits that come along with it, picked up overnight.

Forget who you were. Forget where you came from. Forget your Academy-honed reflexes and your Brooklyn-born accent. Charlie's as good as dead now, inconsequential. You're someone else entirely.

Feel your bones, your tendons, your skin stretching over the whole package. Feel the way it tightens a bit over the tracks on your arms, the hotredsore spots where your nails are bitten down too short. Notice the way your tongue moves in your mouth, the expressions that fit on your face, the way you dig your thumbs into the sleeves of your sweatshirt until the fabric gets thin and ragged. Practice your twitches and your nervous tells.

Forget about who you were last week, last month, last year. Forget why you put your life on the line. Forget Charlie's motivation to nail scumbags to the wall, every reason Agent DeMarco ever had to hunt down Odin Rossi and throw him into the deepest pit the FBI can find. It's gone. Done. None of that is important any more, because you're not Charlie anymore.

Reinvent yourself. Find a new reason to move: chasing the high, craving the buzz, anything to hold the crash off longer. Throw yourself into this new girl, burrow into her brain until all you can think are her words, her thoughts, her memories. Feel the physicality of her body, the way she moves and jerks and starts in ways different from what you're used to - and do it until you ARE used to it, do it until it's second nature, do it until it's your ONLY nature.

Keep practicing.

Don't let yourself think about the warmth of Graceland, the safety of family and home. That's not yours anymore. That belongs to Charlie, and you aren't Charlie any longer. Don't worry about the others, while you're out chasing smack; it'll get you killed. You don't have a house full of laughter and pasta sauce and the smell of high tide anymore. You crash where you can, with whatever you've got, and you aren't allowed to miss them. They're Charlie's family, and you aren't Charlie right now.

When you finally believe that you're her, that you've always been her, that you've never been anyone BUT her..... that's when it's safe to sell the cover.

Here's hoping someone bites.

 

[the end]


End file.
